


He ain't heavy, he's my brother.

by coinquinatus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: ;a past long forgotten, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Supernatural - Freeform, Wincest - Freeform, headcanons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 00:56:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2903417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coinquinatus/pseuds/coinquinatus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are moments that have been long forgotten between the two brothers. The bad and even the good memories had faded from existence. Every now and then those memories begin to fade back into view without warning. It's a reminder of where they had come from, of the bond the two share.</p><p>--</p><p>After failing to finish a hunt successfully, 18 year old Dean Winchester begins to resort to his inner alcoholism that had been passed down by his father and his father before him. Sam only being 14 is concerned. He's afraid that it's too late to save his brother from this crippling addiction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He ain't heavy, he's my brother.

Thing's weren't supposed to end like this. John had put his complete faith in his oldest son. He fully believed that Dean could handle this case, or any case. Trust like this wasn't easy to earn. His entire life up until now hadn't meant anything. Dean needed to prove his father that he was capable of being the hunter he knew he was. The soldier he knew he was. But in the end it was too good to be true. But in the end he failed.  
  
The vampire nest he was meant to infiltrate was much larger then he, or his father had expected. He was quickly identified and captured with in minutes of his arrival. They threw fists and jabbed elbows into Dean's gut. By the end of it he was bloody and on the brink of unconsciousness. That's when daddy came to the rescue. John knew he couldn't take out all of these vampires on his own and there was no way in Hell he'd drag Sammy into all of this. It was risky, it was dangerous but John managed to get Dean's limp body out of there before they turned him.

"Jesus Christ, Dean.." John muttered softly under his breath as he pulled Dean towards the Impala. Dean's head hung in front of him. His eyes were barely open. Crimson blood dripped from his nose and down the side of his parted lips. He had a large purple bruise on the side of his head that was beginning to swell. Even at this age, this hadn't been the first time Dean got his ass handed to him and it definitely wouldn't be the last. Once inside the Impala; John pulled out from the nest as quickly as he could before they noticed Dean was gone. John was disappointed. But he was going to be subtle about it.

All he had to do was look at Dean a certain way and he would know. That sad, ashamed look in his eyes that he has seem far too many times before. So Dean simply kept his head down as they drove back to their shitty motel room. He could still feel the blood in his mouth. This bitter, coppery taste that he had grown familiar with. The Impala pulled into a nearly vacant lot outside of the motel. John parked the car and sighed deeply. He hesitated before speaking. "Go inside and clean yourself up. I need to fix this mess." John spoke in a firm, gruff tone without meeting his son's eyes. Dean nodded slowly. He grunted in pain as he pushed himself out of the Impala and towards their motel room.

Inside room 104 was Sam. He was sitting on the edge of one of the beds with his eyes glued to the staticy TV screen. He glanced over at the clock on the wall often. It was late; past midnight. He was worried about Dean. This was his first, solo hunt. Who knows what could happen? But before he has the time to turn back towards the TV the door unlocks and opens. Dean walks into the room slowly. He pushes his back against the door to close it. He takes a few deep breathes to swallow the stinging pain. Sam instantly gets to his feet once he sees the condition his brother's in. "Dean, what happened?!" He asks desperately as he moves towards him with caution. He doesn't want to touch him and hurt him even more.   
  
Dean has this vacant look on his face and he doesn't respond. He can't even look Sam in the eyes because he fears that he will look at him the same way his father would. Sam rushed into the bathroom while gently ushering his brother in with him. He closed the toilet seat and sat him down. Sam looks through the cupboard for the first aid kit. Once he finds it he begins to clean the cuts and the dried blood from his face. "Dean..." He says sternly. In moments like this you have to wonder who's actually the big brother here. "What happened? Where's dad?" He kept his voice level and free from any worrisome tone.

Finally, Dean lifts his head upwards. His eyes open wider. The whites were a slight pink color, there were thick, tired lines contouring the bottoms of his lids. His lips were dried and cracked. Blood still lingered on the inner crease of his bottom lip. He inhales slowly; his chest pushing up as his lungs fill with air. He slowly exhales silently. Sam tries to find his gaze but it's so distant. There's pure fear reflecting off of those emerald hues.   
  
"Dean--" Sam spoke again but Dean cut him off. "I failed, Sammy." He said softly in a hoarse tone. Sam frowned deeply and turned his head to the side. "What do you mean?" Sam asked, concerned. "It was supposed to be a simple job. In and out..and I fucked it up." He tries to hide the tears that had been forming in his eyes but he couldn't. He didn't have the strength to wipe them away. "Mistakes happen--no one's perfect." Sam tried his best to console him but it didn't work. Dean shook his head and got to his feet slowly. He pushed past Sam gently and moved back into the main bedroom.

Dean knew where it was hiding. That bittersweet alcohol that his father kept hidden in the bottom of his bag for those dark nights. Dean had watched the amber liquid change him. It was like a support system for troubled souls. He had tasted it before; but for the same reason. He thought it would make him a man but it didn't work like that. Dean began taring apart the room; looking for his father's bag. Once he found it he threw his father's clothing all over the room. At the bottom of the bag were two, full bottles of whiskey. He grabbed the neck of one of the bottles and popped it open. Without hesitating he took a swig. It stung the cut inside of his mouth but he loved the sting.   
  
Sam followed Dean back into the room. He watched as he took a drink. He too had seen how it had changed his father and now it was going to change his brother. "Dean, stop! Dad'll kill you!" Sam cried out desperately. Dean took another long drink before turning back to Sam. He laughed dryly and shook his head. "Yeah? So what?" He cried out. His anger was slowly rising. "What has he ever done for us, huh? Besides shove us off to do his dirty work." Dean kept drinking and in no time the bottle was nearly half way empty. Sam didn't know what to say. He had always looked up to his father but now that Dean has said that he's beginning to question everything.

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually my first fan-fiction. I hope you enjoy it!


End file.
